


Better Late

by RosesToPaint



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Family you Choose, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Travel, original characters may appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:45:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosesToPaint/pseuds/RosesToPaint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ok, so Tula is way past the usual journey age. And maybe, possibly, she doesn't even really know what she's getting herself into - but she's got to find her dad, so it's not like she has a choice anyway. With half her family hot on her heels, Tula has to find her father, before her mother finds her!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Late

It was Saturday afternoon and the sun’s rays were hitting the prism in her window just so that it set her whole room ablaze with colour. A gentle breeze wafted into the room from the opened french doors in the library just opposite.  
From two stories below the tinkle of her sister’s piano wafts up to her. It could have been, _should have been_ , a beautiful day.  
For all intents and purposes it _was_ the most beautiful day of the summer yet, which is why her eyes nearly roll out of her head when something decidedly less sweet than her sister’s piano music echoes down the hallway.

“TULAAAAAA! Ralf will be here soon! Are you ready yet?!” Tula suspected that she would, in fact, never be ready for Ralph; a sentiment that was very much mirrored by her step-father.  
“TULAAAA!”  
“YES, I’M ON MY WAY!”  
“DON’T YELL! HOW ARE YOU EVER GOING TO FIND A HUSBAND LIKE THIS?!”  
She refrained from further comments and instead checked herself over again in the mirror. She looked ridiculous, as she had five minutes ago. There was a huge, pink bow on her head and one around her waist, cinching in the puffy cream coloured nightmare she was wearing, as if she were some sort of retarded present.  
There had been gloves too, but she had determinedly kicked those under the bed. Her hair was in curls and looked entirely at odds with the beady, currently ill-tempered, black eyes staring back at her. _You’re a Snubbull_ , she thought. _A pampered, ridiculous thing with big, useless teeth, that’s what you are. All bluster, but too cowardly to actually speak your mind_.  
She cast another unhappy look out of the window and resigned herself to her fate.  
Ralph was feeling generous today.  
Her mother, Rose, had been beside herself when he’d told them they’d go out to eat somewhere fancy. Tula knew Rose had feared he might be losing interest, and that maybe he was about to trade her in for a newer model.  
Not an entirely baseless worry; that was after all how she’d become his wife. But going out and showing his face in public with them meant he would keep her around for at least a little while longer.  
This was exactly why she’d spontaneously cancelled Tula’s weekly visit to her father.  
“This is more important”, had been her words. “We are your family.”

 

Obviously Tula’s parents did not get along anymore. In fact, she was still occasionally marveling at the miracle of her and Yolanda’s existence – how had her parents ever gotten along long enough to have two children together?  
  
She thought that maybe Rose had been caught up in the whimsiness of it all: Tula’s dad, Elias, had worked as a groundskeeper for Rose’ father in Eterna City – in particular the Old Chateau in Eterna Forest. It had been a scandalous affair, of course. When Rose had gotten pregnant, her mother had been summarily disowned. They married, had Yolanda and eventually her and lived in a tiny house on the edges of Eterna City, until Rose finally decided she had enough of it.  
Or so Tula liked to think in her most bitter and resentful moments. A little closer to the truth would probably be that she met Ralph, who was the owner of the Poké Mart chain, was interested in her beautiful mother, and waved a chance of reconciliation with her father in Rose’ face. She fell for it hook, line and sinker.  
In the end, her mother packed them up, married Ralf and moved them all Hearthome City, where the high society liked to rub shoulders. With his daughter married off ‘appropriately’, Tula’s grandfather could finally admit, that there was no one else who had even a single damn chance at controlling the ghost Pokémon in the Old Chateau and gave Elias his job back.  
All that Tula and Yolanda had left of their father were the weekends. Since then almost ten years had passed. Yolanda had bowed to their mother’s wish only a few years ago, not to see their dad anymore. Tula had been angry at her on their father’s behalf for a while, but in the end, she couldn’t bear to be angry with Yolanda. Her older sister was a gentle and soft-spoken person who hated conflict and yelling; their mother was simply stronger than her. Also, Tula knows that she might not be visiting him anymore, but there was a constant stream of letters going back and forth between them, delivered by Yolanda’s much adored and supremely inconspicuous Pidgey.  
Not many Pokémon were allowed inside the house. Rose and Ralph were incredibly fastidious about which Pokémon were ‘appropriate for a lady’ and which weren’t. They also considered Pokémon battles barbarous, so the only ones allowed were useful and aesthetically pleasing companions.  
Her mother took insurmountable pride in her Snubbulls. After becoming a trophy wife she had taken to breeding them with fervor; since then they’d become the topic of most of her conversations and a source of envy for all other rich, bored old broads.  
They’d also become a source of formidable ire for Edith. Possibly, they could sense her dislike for them, or maybe her mother simply liked them mean – they latched onto her with sharp teeth whenever possible and wouldn’t, for the love of it, let go. Her mother’s favorite, an elderly Snubbull female called ‘Princess’ especially had it out for her.  
  
That very beast stood in front of her door and now impatiently tapped its tiny foot.  
“Yes, yes, I’m on my way I said.”  
It growled and huffed at her and kept making impatient motions towards the door. Tula grabbed her purse – empty, because she didn’t actually need one, but Rose insisted – and swept out of the room. Or she tired, as Princess latched on to her leg, apparently fed up with her dawdling.  
“Ouch! Ugh, oh for the love of - !”  
She hopped down the hall, kicking her leg repeatedly to unlatch the little monster. A particularly vicious one shot Princess like a bullet down the stairs. But before she could flop onto the floor, Yolanda caught her out of the air.  
“Oh dear! Why can’t you two get along?”  
Princess snarled and hid her face in Yolanda’s arm.  
“It’s not me, it’s her”, Tula insisted and yelped when her sister poked her in the side.  
“You’re both impossible. Hurry, mother is already unhappy.”  
Rose was always unhappy with her, so Tula really couldn’t care less.  
“Finally!” their mother called when they descended the last few steps into the entrance hall. “Ralph must already be waiting for us!” She took Princess out of Yolanda’s arm. “Darling, you look wonderful! Now if you’d only have that adorable little Snubbull I bred especially for you …”  
“No thank you, mother. I have my hands full as is …”  
Rose huffed.  
“Fine, I’m sure you’ll change your mind one day. Tula! Where are your gloves? And your bow is crooked – oh never mind! Let’s hurry!” She turned around, her skirts swishing dramatically, and swept out of the door.  
“Come on”, Yolanda said good-naturedly. “It’ll be nice to eat out at least.”  
Tula whined, but her sister sharply pinched her butt, and so she obediently hurried along.

 

‘The Flower Garden’ was famous for the Sunfloras that cooked and served the food. Rose strutted into the place as if she owned it – which she probably could, if she wanted – dragging her moody daughter along.  
“Tula, you walk like a stick. Move your hips a little!”  
Yolanda wisely kept at a distance.  
At the best table, with view on the extensive gardens, and illuminated by fairy lights, sat Ralph. He was a good bit older than Rose, but he was tall, stern looking and always wearing immaculately pressed suits, that gave him the air of a much younger man. He might have been attractive, if not for his eternally dour disposition.  
  
Most of the evening was spent listening to Rose’ mindless chatter. Once dinner was eaten and everyone anticipating dessert, Jonathan cut her off.  
“Tula”, he started and folded his hands on the table, “Your mother and I have thought about this long and hard and we think you’re old enough now to realize that your father is not the sort of person with whom you want to associate.”  
Tula gaped at him. She wanted to say something, shout at him, but Yolanda was squeezing her hand so hard it hurt. “We know it will be hard for you, but we think this is a necessary step.”  
“He is my father”, she pressed out tersely.  
“Oh darling”, Rose crooned, “I didn’t want to tell you, but he’s interfered with your life so much already! Can you believe he didn’t want you to get married?” “Married?”, she yelped, “When was I supposed to get married?”  
“To Roderick, of course! Emily’s lovely nephew.”  
She remembers Roderick. As does Yolanda. And two of their maids. And the girl behind the bar, and the waitress. He had been almost ten years older than Tula and his enthusiasm for her had extended about as far as Edith’s bust, which, at fourteen, had still been pretty much non-existent.  
“I was supposed to marry at fourteen?”  
She really couldn’t believe them right now. What had they been thinking – what were they thinking? Obviously they _still_ thought a great opportunity had passed her by.  
“No, no, don’t be silly”, Ralph scolded. “Engaged. You would have been married at eighteen, of course.”  
“Please darling”, Helena crooned, “I know you love your father – for reasons I cannot possibly understand – but you have to see it like this: we’ll have so much more time for each other and our Snubbulls!”  
Princess gave an ill-tempered snort from her lap.  
“Excuse me”, Tula breathed, clutching Yolanda’s hand back harder. “I think I’ll go home now.”  
“TULA”, her mother shrilled, before she could as much as push her chair back. “PLEASE DON’T MAKE A SCENE NOW!”  
The whole place had gone silent. “I’m making a scene?” she snapped.  
“PLEASE LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER AND BE REASONABLE!”  
Yolanda’s grip vanished instantly. “Go”, her sister hissed. “Don’t try to argue now; go, go, go!”

Thankfully her mother did not scream after her as she left the restaurant in a hurry.  
The walk home took nearly two hours. She knew a few shortcuts, and the expensive high heels lay long abandoned somewhere in a dark alley, but her feet were killing her anyway.  
When she arrived the lights were already off and the house silent. Careful she crept up the stairs to her room. She threw her dress onto the floor and kicked her purse under the bed, to join the gloves. Her pyjamas were far less fancy. Rose had put up no fuss about the fluffy purple pants and shirt with the Oddish on it – possibly to discourage any nightly male company – and so Tula could relish in her little piece of pseudo-rebellion.

She was seventeen now. Most of her peers, even those her mother approved of, had already traveled a little, gotten into Pokémon battles and ‘gotten it out of their systems’ years ago.  
Yolanda hadn’t traveled either, of course, but only because her sister had, yet again, bowed to their mother’s overbearing wishes. Maybe naively, Tula had always thought her father would one day convince her mother to let her go. Only for a little while – half a year at most. But now her mother wanted her to cut off contact and they’d brought up _marriage_ again.  
She needed to talk to her father. Ralph’s study was on the floor below. If he forgot to lock the door, she could send a letter with his Fearrow; she would be back tomorrow and no one would be the wiser. In contrast to her owner, the Pokémon liked Tula just fine, since she’d occasionally sneak her treats. Most of Ralph’s Pokémon were, in fact, perfectly lovely and entirely starved for attention. His days as a trainer were long gone and by now he didn’t spent much time with them anymore. A pity, she thought, especially because they were all rather elderly now and deserved a nice retirement.  
She crept down the stairs, just as quietly as she’d crept them up.  
She knew the layout of the place well enough to navigate it blind, but the thought of doing something forbidden made her clumsy. When she finally reached the door, she felt as if her steps should have woken up the whole house.  
Of course she could never be lucky, and so the door was locked. She fumbled with a hair pin for a while, but she’d only ever seen it work on TV; the hair pin broke. She cursed.  
The key suddenly appeared in front of her nose and made her jump.  
“Yes please”, Yolanda whispered exasperatedly, “do wake up the others as well.”  
“Yolanda! What are you doing here?”  
“I was waiting for you to come home. Then I heard you creeping around – I knew you’d want to talk to father. Take the key already and send him my love, too. I’m going back to bed. Don’t get caught.”

She waited until her sister’s long pink nightdress swished around the corner before opening the door. Ralph kept his Pokémon in his lower desk drawer – like most of his tools.  
They were all standard Pokéballs, neatly labeled with stickers. There was a purple bubble sticker on what she knew to be a Nidoking; a raindrop sticker that marked Ralph’s Wailmar, as well as several other stickers, flames and more bubbles of different colours. Tula had only ever gotten to see half of them but she knew that Rose thought none of them were appropriate for polite society. Of course Rose thought Snubbulls were the only truly appropriate pet Pokémon.  
She quickly grabbed the ball marked by a feather. “Fearrow, come out.”  
There was a soft ‘ _pop_ ’ and obnoxious smoke, before the Fearrow squawked out a greeting. “Shhhhh!”, she hissed, “you’ll wake someone up.”  
She offered some crackers to the big avian, which she accepted gratefully. “Can you deliver a letter to dad for me?” she asked, rubbing her head. The bird gave a vague nod, her long neck swaying back and forth. She was an impressive one, huge and fierce, even if her eyes had gone a little cloudy, and her gait a little stiff.  
“Please! I know you’re fast enough to make it back in a few hours – I’ll wait for you. Ralph won’t even notice, I promise!”  
She really wished she could have asked Yolanda for her Pidgey, but that bratty little bird wouldn’t do a damn thing for her. Fearrow was large and conspicuous and weary of upsetting her trainer, but Tula would beg if she had to. Another cracker and a careful grooming of Fearrow’s impressive wings finally won her agreement. The Pokémon took the letter into her sharp beak and squeezed out of the window. When she had disappeared in the distance, Tula settled down onto the floor to wait.


End file.
